What Actually Happens
by BellaSingSong
Summary: SPN Season 2 AU and OC. Annabella had it all, but monsters burst in with the Winchesters not far behind. Rated T.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first story, I apologize in advance for any format or technical errors. This story is Supernatural Season 2 AU based. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural.**

**Chapter One**

I woke up with an abrupt gasp of air. I had fallen asleep next to my laptop, on my very hard desk. I ran my fingers through my long, greasy hair and rubbed out the layered crust on my eyes. I stretched and - wow, I smelled, too. When did I shower last? It didn't matter. This thesis was going to sparkle, I was going to ace art history, and then this class could end for something less torturous after Christmas break. All of my other classes had finished for the semester, why didn't this one accept imminent death? Ugh, didn't matter at this point. Nothing mattered much, apparently. At least I had a singles room; the only one in this dorm building.

I made myself get up, slowly to avoid getting dizzy, and shoved myself into the dorm's bathroom with my toiletry bag.

"Wow Annie-B, you look like total shit," my floor mate, and best friend, Nadia noted.

"Love you, too. What time is it?"

"Afternoon o' clock, sweets."

"Crap. Missed breakfast. Whatever. I'm determined to finish this thing and turn it in by tonight, you know."

"Yes, everyone here and their grandma knows. Take a shower and eat first, though," she advised.

I muttered something back, but I didn't even know what I said.

* * *

A half hour later, I emerged. Hair straightened, clean clothes, light make-up, teeth brushed, the works.

I went back into my room, not surprised that there was sparsely anyone around. Most classes, as previously mentioned, were already finished. I snagged my laptop and shoved it in my bag, and shrugged on my coat to head to the main building that had almost everything, but most importantly, the cafeteria.

It wasn't long before I was sitting and indulging on mac and cheese sprinkled with tuna, one of my favorite dishes. Of course, that was accompanied with a large mug of coffee with a light sprinkle of sugar.

"Annie-B, I just don't get it. Mac and cheese is great, but then you ruin it with cat chow." One of the first friends I made here, Aiden, slid across from me.

"I happen to love my fine cuisine, and all complaints must be in the form of compliments today. I'm going to revise my thesis again, then I'm done," I grinned. Aiden was in the class with me, and had yet to reach the three quarter mark of his first draft.

"Yeah, about that..." he started wearily, putting down his chicken wrap. "I might just leave it as is, turn it in, and disconnect myself from Professor Bailey forever. I'm not getting anywhere," he sighed.

"It can't be that bad," I tried to comfort him. "What's giving you the writer's block? I could give you a direction to go in," I offered.

"Really? You're the best," he said, relief evident in his mannerisms.

I opened my laptop and notes, waiting for the computer to wake up and sipping on my coffee, when I heard a scream echo through the hall, followed by gasps and murmurs. I looked over, and lost my breath when I saw Nadia ... She had hung herself ... In the center of the hall above the hub ... No. No, she wouldn't do that. This wasn't real.

"Oh God," Aiden said, as shocked as I was.

I realized then I was crying. I had somehow made my way over to Nadia's freely swinging corpse and was sobbing. This wasn't happening. She was pulling some sort of sick joke, or Ashton Kutcher was gonna pop out from around the corner, or something. No!

I climbed up onto the ledge of hub, and tried to reach her body. She might just have a neck injury and I could still ... No! I was too short to reach! Only then did I notice Aiden next to me, and he stretched and, in agonizing slow motion, managed to lift Nadia's head out of the surprisingly loose noose. I got down, and Aiden held her there, bringing her body down to the counter, and he hopped down after me. I barely registered the crowd behind me, somebody calling 911, someone telling me it was too late. No.

"Nadia! Nadia, no! You have to stay, to graduate! Wake up!" I continued sobbing.

Aiden put down her hand.

"There's no pulse," he barely got out.

I looked away from Nadia's face, unable to face her. Unable to face myself.

"What are we even supposed to do?! She was our best friend, Aiden! Spent every day with us, we should've known if she was unhappy!" I sobbed even harder.

Campus police came up behind me, trying to calm me down, telling me and Aiden we had to move over, and other things that didn't reach my ears. I looked back at Nadia, feeling so guilty. This was real. This was very real. And I had to face it.

Grabbing Aiden's arm for support, we backed up and let the authorities do their job.

* * *

I heard my phone ringing somewhere in the room. I glanced at the clock; hours had passed since Nadia's death. I didn't want to move from my bed, so I decided not to answer, but then it started ringing again. I got up, rubbing my dry and sore eyes from crying, ripped open my bag, and swiped my phone screen.

"Hello?"

"Annabella! Sweetheart, I just heard what happened, I'm so sorry. Are you feeling okay? Holding up?"

"Mom, I'm not okay. It's just ... I mean ... I didn't even see it coming. Nadia was so happy..."

I cut myself off with sobs.

"Oh, sweetie! Everything will be fine, you'll see."

"Everything is not fine! Nadia is dead!" I exploded. It wasn't fair to my mom to act like a child, but I was so upset.

"Well, make sure to hand in your thesis and then you can come home, hmm?"

My thesis. Art history. Right.

"Yeah, mom. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, honey."

"Bye."

I hung up and fished out my laptop from my bag. Slowly, it turned on and I printed out my thesis to the printer in the lobby downstairs. Screw revision, I was done.

I was downstairs when I caught sight of myself in the mirror next to the door; my eyes were beyond puffy redness, and my nose had swollen due to irritation. I didn't care.

I everything back together and headed out to Professor Bailey's office. Again, I forgot a coat but I was too stubborn to head back at this point.

I entered into the office building, sniffling. I rubbed my arms, attempting to warm myself up. I headed up the steps and knocked on the door.

"Open!" A sing song voice cheered from the inside. Cheery. Joy. Wasn't Nadia one of Professor Bailey's favorite student? Maybe she hasn't heard the news. But even my mom knew. _Just turn in the paper_, I thought.

"Professor?" I began, opening the door. "Here's my thesis. Thanks for all of your help." I rubbed my eyes after setting the papers on her desk.

"Of course, Annabella. Are you feeling well?" She asked.

"I don't...um...I'll see you after break," I answered hastily, getting back into the hallway. I felt my legs moving me toward the door. I was about to head down the steps when a strange smell pulled me back to a ... janitor's closet. _Of course it smells, doofus, of cleaner product and whatnot_, I told myself. But this scent was off, like year old moldy play-doh mixed with something else...

I opened the closet, curiosity getting the better of me. On the floor and across the walls was molten ... skin?! I slammed the door shut, and jog walked back to my dorm. No way. I was hallucinating. I barely even ate today, and I was suffering from trauma. What I saw was cleaner product that had ... contents under pressure. Right. And it imploded in the closet. That explained the smell, too.

I crashed onto my bed and fell asleep again.

* * *

My body was stiff when I woke up, like I didn't move an inch since I had fallen asleep. I looked at my clock. It was 8:32 am. _FOOD,_ My stomach growled at me.

I mechanically changed into different clothes, grabbed my coat and headed out. It was snowing this morning. I entered into the cafeteria and texted Aiden.

[How're you holding up?]

I waited for a response as I sat down, having only grabbed a muffin with juice.

[If you could call it that,] he sent back.

I sighed, looking up from my cell. Two men in suits had entered the commons; the taller one had longer brown hair, and the other had shorter hair. They were both muscular, and I could tell by the way that they walked and interacted that they were very close.

[Yeah. Same.] I texted back to Aiden.

I rubbed my face, and looked up again to see that the two men were heading my way. The closer they got, the more I realized how tall they really were. Jeez, Mr. Long Hair was a giant. Why were they coming over here?

"Hello, Ms. Richards?" Mr. Long Hair asked.

"Yes, that's me," I replied hesitantly.

They showed me ... FBI badges?!

"I'm Agent Hetfield, this is my partner Agent Ulrich. We have some questions to ask you concerning the death of Nadia Slater."

"Uh...yeah, go ahead. You can sit down," I said, mostly feeling looked down upon due to their authority and how they towered over me. I'm only 5'1"!

"Thank you," he replied. They sat down, and my phone rang.

"Just a moment," I said, answering the phone.

"Mom, this isn't the best time..."

"I know, honey, but I just wanted to make sure you were coming home today," she said, concern coloring her voice.

"No, I mean, this isn't the best time right now at this moment. I'll call you back," and then I hung up. I saw that Aiden had texted me back too, but I turned my phone on silent and shoved it in my bag.

"Sorry," I mumbled, looking back at them. Wow, they both had beautiful eyes. Agent Ulrich had sparkling green ones and Agent Hetfield -

"No problem," Agent Hetfield said.

"Do you know of any reason Ms. Slater would have wanted to end her life?" His partner asked, moving us along.

"No. None at all," I said truthfully. "Nadia was happy. She was going to graduate this year, she just bought her own car, she ... I don't know." I said, finishing in a whisper.

"When did you discover the body?" Agent Hetfield continued.

"It was ... mid afternoon yesterday. Someone screamed and we all found her." I replied, starting to breathe heavily. -Keep it cool. You're fine, - I thought, trying to keep it together.

"It was in here, yes? Could you point out to us where she was?"

I felt a couple tears threatening to spill over, but I rubbed it away. I needed to help these guys out. Wait, why were FBI investigating a suicide, anyway? Was there something else that none of us knew about yet?

"On the rafter...above the hub," I said. The hub was like the ultimate ask-a-question-get-a-quick-answer center in the college. I looked over to point, but then it was like I was seeing Nadia's free floating body all over again and I looked away. -Keep it together. Keep it together.-

I grabbed a napkin and blew my nose, a little louder than I intended.

"Was there anything that seemed to be out of place?" One of them asked, but I had my head down, fiddling with another napkin, so I couldn't tell which.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Did you find anything else that seemed weird or unnatural at any time yesterday? It's alright if you feel that you won't make sense," Agent Hetfield said, as I lifted my head.

Weird? Unnatural? I went to a small college to avoid that type of thing. Wait...there was...

"Yesterday I opened a janitor's closet and there was this weird gooey ... skin-like molten material strung everywhere. But ... That was probably just pressurized cleaner that exploded. It's nothing," I said, retracting. Now I felt silly mentioning it.

The agents glanced at each other, and it looked like they were having a full blown silent conversation. These guys had definitely been through a lot together to be able to communicate like that.

"Thank you for your help today, Ms. Richards. Call us if you need help, at any time," Agent Hetfield said, handing me a card. Then the agents got up and left.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Woo! Chapter 2! Please enjoy, rate and comment!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural.**

**Chapter 2**

I knocked on the door to Aiden's dorm room. I probably should've texted him back, but in person just seemed better.

"What?!" He shouted from the other side, his voice hollow and hoarse. He'd been crying, too.

"Aiden, it's me, Annabella," I said softly.

I heard some commotion on the other side of the door, then he opened it slowly, sniffling.

"Hey."

"Hey. Can I come in?"

"Uh, yeah."

I barely stepped in before giving him a big hug. He barely hesitated before hugging me back. We were both the aftermath after a train wreck, and needed to stick together.

"So, you still have a thesis due," I mentioned, sniffling. I didn't wanna bring up Nadia right now, and I wanted to make sure he passed the class; he probably forgot about it like I did.

"Oh, yeah. That," he mumbled, confirming my assumption.

"Yeah. Let's finish it up," I said. ·

After a couple hours, I deemed the essay passable, and I gave Aiden another hug.

"I'll be fine. Eventually," he mumbled.

"Yeah. I'll text you, okay?"

"Okay."

I grabbed my stuff and headed out, enjoying the cool air on my hot face. When I entered my dorm room, I dug around my bag for my phone and called my mom.

"Hi, honey," she said after the first ring.

"Hey, sorry about the fiasco earlier. Apparently FBI is investigating Nadia's death, I don't know why. They were questioning me when you called," I told her.

"Wow. Annabells, this sounds serious. When are you coming home?"

"I'm finishing packing and heading out in a bit, okay mom?" It was a two and a half hour drive, so I should be back at 7:00, I thought looking at the clock.

"Okay. Your brother got here yesterday."

"Tell the little bugger I said hi. Bye mom."

"See you soon."

I looked out my window. It was snowing beautifully. Nadia and I would go out and -

No. She was no longer here. I couldn't.

A lump formed in my throat for the umpteenth time that day. I looked down and saw ... the agents? The tall one, Agent Hetfield, had a blade in his hand and his partner had a gun. What was going on?!

Suddenly, the door behind me ripped open and Professor Bailey came in.

"Professor, what are-

"Oh, you'll do just fine. Annabella..."

Her voice was off and creepy, but I had no time to think because, in a blink, she crossed the room and pinned me to the ground.

"Get off!" I screamed.

"Shut up and you live," my professor hissed. Her hand moved to my throat, choking me to unconsciousness.

* * *

I slowly felt myself roll into consciousness. I wanted to rub my eyes, but my hands were...bound, along with a separate set of ropes binding my arms to me. I couldn't see because I was blindfolded, and I had a tight cloth gagging me. I realized I had been thrown on the floor, as well.

_What is going on?!_ I thought, panicking. _Stay calm stay calm stay calm,_ I chanted to myself.

I tried to wriggle myself out, spit out the gag, or something, but it was all knotted really well. _Keep going!_ I mentally pep talked myself. I had rolled myself over and found...a wall. I stood up against it, and rubbed the back of my head against it, and felt the blindfold slowly roll off...there! I shrugged it off, and gasped at what I saw.

While it was really dark in the room, I saw more of the ectoplasmic material I found from the janitor's closet covering the floor. Professor Bailey was in a corner ... her throat was slit, and her body wasn't moving.

I was beyond trying to stay calm at that point, and I felt myself trying to hyperventilate past the gag, snot threatening to block my only airway, tears streaming down my face. What was going on!?

I looked away from the body, going into survivor mode. I no longer felt, and logic told me I was going to end up the same if I didn't get out of here.

Careful not to slip on the ectoplasm, I stepped forward and looked around. There were small windows lining the top of the room - I was being kept in a basement. They were too small to crawl out of, and there was nothing to climb on anyway. Right. There was a staircase and the door leading out - I'd need to untie myself.

A second look around, and my now fully adjusted eyes fell on a table. Slowly, I walked toward the edge of it, turned around, and scraped my bound hands against it to roll off the rope the same way I had with the blindfold.

_Ow ow ow!_ The rope dug into my hand as I rolled, the table scraping me worse and worse each time.

After an eternity, the rope fell off of my hands, my wrists raw. I flexed my hands, and then squirmed my arms in front of me. It didn't scratch as bad because of my sweater, but it was still extremely uncomfortable. I took a moment to breathe.

_Okay. Okay okay. Almost there_, I continued to pep talk myself. I bent over, thanking God I was flexible, and used my hands to take out the gag. _One more to go..._ Here was the hard part. I didn't know how to get out of the torso bind...

The door flew open, and I scrambled under the table, screw the ectoplasm.

"Awh, shit, the shifter killed our teacher," a gruff voice muttered.

I moved to the edge as silently as possible, and took a look. It was the agents, in jeans and plaid, Ulrich in a leather jacket.

"Dean, there's too much skin to be just one change. The shifter's already gotten a new makeover," Hetfield said. Skin? Shifter? What were they talking about? Was this all a government conspiracy type thing?

"The body has to be in here, this is the shifter's den," Ulrich answered.

I gasped and pulled back, but ended up hitting my head on the table. _Shit!_

Hetfield came over and bent down. "Come on out," he said.

"I'm stuck," I admitted. He put his blade on the table and easily slid me out, put me on my feet, then used the blade to cut the rope.

"Thanks," I said, relaxing. Just as quickly, I bristled at their presence. I needed answers, now.

"So what exactly is going on?! One day I'm answering you guys' questions about Nadia, then my professor beats me down and I just spent forever getting out of a blindfold, gag, and bound wrists! And I find more of this ectoplasm stuff, and you guys just said it was skin?!"

The guys looked at each other, then back at me.

"I'm Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam. We hunt the things that go bump in the night, and right now it happens to be a shapeshifter - that's a monster that can change its shape to look like anyone, but it sheds it's skin like a snake, hence the goo. Your friend Nadia didn't commit suicide, she was conned into it. Your professor was next in line, and we caught it's trail, but a little too late. Since you're here, it means the shifter is currently your evil twin," Dean finished.

I just stood there and stared at both of them. This was insane; I was in a basement with two grown men that needed professional help. I needed to get out of here. Hoping that "Dean" wouldn't shoot me, I ran up the stairs and noticed I was in the office building; the exit was up another flight of stairs.

"Hey, don't go! It's not safe!"

"You're gonna get killed!"

They were both clamoring up the stairs, but I had the advantage and needed to move it. I turned the corner and ran into...a mirror? No, it was ... me. That's not possible.

"You little -"

Sam and Dean caught up then, and the other me took on a face of terror and confusion.

"Oh my God! Guys, what is going on?!" The thing, shapeshifter they called it, said.

I shoved the shapeshifter over.

"Don't you dare! You're the bad guy around here!"

It backed out onto the wall.

"Don't eat me!"

"Eat you?! What?!"

Sam and Dean looked between the two of us.

"This really sucks sometimes," Dean muttered.

Sam stepped forward and cut both of our wrists.

"Ow! What the hell!" I shouted. The other me suddenly screeched, grabbed its arm, and turned around with a speed I could barely keep up with; then Dean shot its heart before it could get away.

I watched stunned as evil me shrieked and turned into a pile of goo in the middle of the hallway.

I blinked once. Twice. Thrice. This just happened. I looked up at the guys, taking a step back so I didn't have to crane my head over to keep eye contact.

"So ... shapeshifter?" I asked.

"Yep," Dean answered.

"And you ... hunt these types of monsters down. Which not only means that they exist and hurt people, but they're common enough that they need Ghostbusters like you guys. Are you even FBI?"

"No, we're not FBI, but it's a good cover when we need intel," Dean said, amused.

I looked down, took a deep breath and started rubbing my temples. I wanted it all to go away like a bad dream ... but I couldn't just be blind to the world like that, it almost just got me killed. I felt the color in my face fade away.

"Hey, are you okay? Are you gonna faint or something?" I heard Sam ask, but he suddenly sounded very far away. I might faint. _Don't you dare._ These guys could still be dangerous, stay awake, - my mind told me. I took a couple more deep breaths, and looked back up at them.

"I'll be fine. Uh...thanks, for saving my life."

They both smiled down to me, but Dean seemed a little grim.

"It's what we do," he said.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Whopee! Chapter three! Hope you guys are liking the story, let me know by rating and commenting!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural.**

**Chapter Three**

"So, what do I do now?" I asked. "Just pretend this never happened? Go on blindly with my life?" The more I started rambling, the more I felt my world shaking from being built on a false foundation.

"Well, it's unlikely you'll run into something again..." Sam started, but I knew what he was saying. There were still monsters and creatures at every corner, at the edge of my eyesight if I cared to look.

"Well, isn't there something I can do to protect myself? What about my friends, my family?" Now I really was going off.

"Go back to them, and just stay aware. Use common sense," Dean answered.

"Common sense? Common sense?! Common sense didn't save me when a shapeshifter barged into my room and kidnapped me! Common sense didn't stop it from stealing my identity! Common sense didn't save Nadia!" Now I'm not much of a crybaby, but at that moment I was so overwhelmed I burst into tears. There was a pounding in my head that came very sudden and sharp; I must've had some concussion or something that was settling in after being thrown around by the shapeshifter.

"Steady," Sam said, grabbing my arm and bringing me upright.

I tried to bring myself upright, the way he was guiding me, but then everything turned double - no, definitely triple. I couldn't tell which way was up ... I collapsed.

"Hey, stay with us," one of them said, and then I blacked out.

* * *

Pain. That was the first sensation that came when I woke up. Then smell ... burgers? Someone started talking, and I felt my hearing coming in like a radio signal that was weak but getting stronger.

" ... have to wake her up then. She can't stay, and like she said, she has a home to get back to. Probably worried sick."

"Her head's gonna hurt like hell. How did she not feel it when she was in the den with us?"

"Fear. Adrenaline. Who knows, but she still got out of most of her binds before we got to her."

"Impressive. All right, then."

Someone started shaking me gently.

"Hey. Annabella. Rise and shine, princess, you've got a life to get back to."

I opened my eyes and greeted very bright green ones. _I should wake up like this everyday_, I mused.

"You're hilarious. C'mon, we'll take you back to the dorms."

Did I say that out loud. Great.

"Hey, you're gonna have to figure out how to unhook your mouth from your thoughts there," Sam said behind him.

I carefully monitored myself before thinking, _That was said out loud too. Peachy. And I'm still with Thing 1 and Thing 2._

"I need my phone," I said, realizing it was still in my room. Then I really snapped awake. I was supposed to be home right now! My mom was probably worried sick!

"Okay, okay! We get it, let's go, then."

I got up quickly, only to regret it when spots covered my vision and the world tilted slightly. _This concussion sucks!_

"Yeah, most of them do," Dean said, steadying me. Wow, Sam was right. I barely had a filter right now. Great.

"Can you walk?" Dean asked me.

"Pretty sure, I'll just have to take it slow," I said.

"Okay. I'm gonna go to the car," he said, grabbing a bag and heading out if the cruddy motel we were in.

Sam held out two pills.

"Advil, for the pain."

"Thanks," I replied, then dry swallowed both of them.

Sam motioned for me to go first. I hesitated a moment, not wanting to go dizzy again, but I was able to get outside and saw Dean packing stuff in the back of ... No. Way.

"A Chevy Impala?!" I asked, unbelieving. It was black and beautiful. _I'm so jealous! My Ford looks like a piece of crap compared to this, _I thought.

"Annabella, this is my baby. Hurt her, and you get hurt,"

"Got it," I breathed, stepping forward and stroking the glossy hood.

"Awh, don't mind him," Sam teased, kicking a tire.

I almost saw the steam coming out if Dean's ears, and decided to step in.

"So, if I could get home as quick as possible, that'd be great," I said quickly, opening the back door and getting in. _It even smells good,_ I thought.

Both of the boys got into the front and they drove me back to the college, Dean playing classic rock.

* * *

"That's it. Thanks for everything," I said, exiting out of the car and standing for a moment to make sure I was okay.

Sam and Dean got out, then they leaned on the hood. I followed them round.

"No problem. Stay safe," Dean said. I shook his hand, but I felt like a rag doll when his hand swallowed mine. Ah, whatever.

"I'm sorry about you're friend, but remember that it wasn't a suicide, okay? And there isn't one thing you could've done to prevent this," Sam said.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," I replied, then shook his hand in the same manner I did Dean.

They went back around and they got into their car, and I waved goodbye again before heading back inside so I didn't freeze.

* * *

27 MISSED CALLS

32 TEXT MESSAGES

12 VOICE MAIL

_Crud,_ I thought, looking at my phone. It was worse than I thought. I shoved my phone in my pocket and grabbed the rest of my bags and headed out, shoving it into the trunk. I hopped into the driver seat and slowly drove out, not wanting to skid on the road.

After an hour, I called my mom. She answered before the first ring finished.

"Annabella! Are you ok?! Are you hurt?! Is something wrong?! You were supposed to be home last night, I've been worried sick!"

"Mom? Mom. Mom!" I kept trying to tell her I was fine, but she was going off now.

"... and I didn't know what to think, maybe you had decided to do the same as Nadia or you had an unexpected pregnancy and eloped or you crashed your car ..."

"MOM! I'm fine, ok? I wasn't feeling well and I passed out in my room after packing everything up."

There was a pause on the other end.

"Okay, honey. I was just so worried."

"I know. I'll see you soon, mom. I love you."

"I love you, too."

I ended the call and drove the rest of the way listening to my techno and pop music.

* * *

I pulled into my driveway and stubbornly grabbed all my bags; I didn't wanna take two trips in this weather.

"Guys! I'm home!" I called into the house. _Where is everyone?_

"Mom! Hayden, I know you're here, too!" I called to my brother. Heaving under the weight of my stuff, I turned on the lights, then dropped all of my bags and gasped.

There was blood strewn all over the kitchen floor and cabinets, stretched red handprints from where somebody tried to hold on tight but was dragged away...not somebody. My family. I followed the trail ... the blood led to the den downstairs ... I opened the door.

"You've already announced your arrival, so why don't you just come down?" A deep bass voice enticed from the bottom of the steps.

I slammed the door, too terrified to scream. Thanking my lucky stars my keys were in the purse hanging across my shoulder, I sprinted back to my car and drove off.

* * *

I pulled into the closest McDonald's, thinking that public equaled safety right now. I walked in and slid into a booth.

_Okay. Okay okay okay. Don't panic._

The problem is what I should do. If these were regular crazy killers in my house, 911 would work just fine. But if this was another monster ...

_Oh, hold up!_

I aggressively dug through my purse until I found ... there!

I punched Sam's faux FBI number into my cell.

"You have reached the cellular device of Agent Hetfield -"

_No! Not voicemail!_

I called again and someone picked up on the second ring.

"Agent Hetfield speaking."

"Sam! Sam, this is Annabella."

"Annabella? What's wrong?"

"It's my family! I went back home but there is somebody in there that has them! I was gonna call 911 but I didn't know if this was another monster thing or -"

"Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. Tell me where you are, and we'll come over."

I started getting some weird looks from the people around me. _Get a grip!_

"I'm at the McDonald's in Effingham, Illinois. How soon can you get here?"

I heard some muffled happenings on the other end, then Sam answered again.

"We'll be there in 45 minutes."

I heard the click as the call ended.

* * *

_Time goes by...so slowly. Time goes by...so slowly. _After Sam hung up a while ago, I pulled out my iPod and blasted my ears out with music. I couldn't think about what was going on to my family, what might happen. I couldn't.

_Time goes by so slowly for those who wait..._I loved this song, and noted the irony in the lyrics.

The door opened again, but I didn't bother to look. I knew it wasn't Sam and Dean, just like the last 20 times. I dropped my head onto the table, screw sanitation. My concussion still hurt, too.

I sat there and zoned out, not noticing that Sam and Dean had sat across from me until one of them tapped me on the head.

I jerked my head up and ripped out my headphones, ignoring the pain in my ears from doing so.

"You're here," I said, relieved. But I tensed up after a second; I had called them for their help, not their company.

"What's going on?" Dean asked me.

"Well, it's like I said. I came home and there was somebody that had taken my family. There was blood all over the place..."

Tears were brimming my eyes. I was so worried and nervous and anxious.

"Okay. Drive home and we'll follow you," Dean said.

I parked across the street from my house, the boys following suit. I came out out of my car and followed them around to their trunk. They opened it up...it was empty.

Then they lifted the bottom and held it open with a rifle. _Holy crap!_

It was filled with all types of knives, guns, machetes ... I wanted to ask about some of the other assorted knick-knacks, but right now wasn't the time.

"That's my house," I told them, pointing.

"Okay. Go ahead and wait in your car," Dean said.

"What?! That's my family in there, I can't just wait out here!"

"We can't have you get caught in the midst of a fight," Sam explained.

"Can you even hold a machete?" Dean asked, handing one over.

_It's heavier than I thought it would be. Maybe I can't throw it around but I could stab something. Probably._

"She's still suffering from her concussion," Sam muttered to Dean.

I paused.

"Was that out loud?" I asked shyly.

"You're staying here," Dean said firmly.

"Fine," I grumbled.

_I'll just hold onto this ..._

"I heard that. Hand it over," Dean said.

"Oh, come on! Please!"

"No! You're wasting time," Dean said, grabbing the weapon, putting it away, then shutting the trunk. Sam and Dean looked at me, waiting expectantly for me to go back into my car. Grudgingly, I trudged back in, and watched as the boys said a couple words to each other, then split up. Dean went around to the back, and Sam cautiously approached the front. He easily pick locked the door and went in.

_Should've given them the key, _I thought stupidly.

* * *

More waiting. I hated this. After awhile, I started getting really nervous again; if this was a case of crazy killers, I was sure they would've been back by now.

I got out of my car and heard my footsteps crunch on the snow to the front door; I carefully opened it up ... there was no one up here. Good.

Ignoring the blood in the kitchen, I grabbed a meat tenderizer and hooked it on my belt, then clutched a meat cleaver in my hand. I made my way over to the now open door that led downstairs, happy that my footsteps were silent. I leaned next to the wall on the other side of the door so I could hear what was going on before I barged in.

"Winchesters?! I should've known," the bass voice snarled.

"I feel like a celebrity," Dean taunted.

"Too bad we didn't bring our autograph books," Sam said, joining in.

_What're they doing?_

"I will kill you as you did my sister!" The creature, it had to be one, roared. I heard some crashing noises ...

_They're making it reckless_, I realized.

I heard a ruckus, then a large thump. There was some shuffling around ... _Something smells._

"Sammy! The curtain!"

"Shit!"

I heard the fire alarm go off; my house was gonna burn down!

The boys came up the stairs, Dean carrying my mom, Sam my brother. They looked horrible.

"We've got to get them to a hospital!" Sam told me.

"And your house is about to turn to ash," Dean finished.

I looked at both of them.

"Let's get out of here!"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hope I don't make you snore, here's chapter four! This chapter is a lot shorter than the last couple, but I'll make it up! Hope you're enjoying, let me know by commenting!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural.**

**Chapter Four**

Two weeks have passed since the incident. After dropping off my family at the hospital, Sam and Dean took off. My mom was announced dead almost immediately from head trauma and blood loss. My brother made it through the night, only to die the next afternoon from the same causes. My house had completely burned down; apparently there were lit candles that had toppled over during the fight, and when the fire department had come by, they could only do damage control to make sure our neighbors didn't catch fire. My college had called; they had canceled the next semester for me, but if I wanted to graduate on time, I would need to double up my classes next year. After that, I had abandoned my cell; I didn't want to talk to anybody, see anybody. How could they even begin to understand?

So I drove. I drove for days. The snow begun to melt. I didn't know what day of the week it was, didn't care. I needed to get away, start anew. I dyed my hair from brown to scarlet, got my hands on some blue eye contacts. I always had mascara and eyeliner. I barely ate anymore, so I wasn't exactly a healthy weight, but whatever. I kept driving.

Eventually, I found a bar in the middle of nowhere. Harvelle's Roadhouse. This should do.

The sign said closed, but the door was open. A stern woman with medium length hair was wiping down the counter.

"Sorry, we're closed," she said, turning around and muttering about an irresponsible daughter that couldn't remember to lock up.

"Oh, I'm not here for a drink," I replied.

She turned around and eyed me.

"I was wondering if ... I could get a job? I know this is unorthodox, but I'm a hard worker and I won't mess around," I told her.

She looked around the bar then back at me.

"Let me tell you what. If you survive the night, you've got yourself a job," she said.

"Jo!" She called. A young woman, maybe my age, came out from the back.

"I'm Ellen, this is my daughter Jo. We manage the place," Ellen introduced.

"I'm Darcy," I said, using my middle name.

"All right. Jo will show you around. We open in an hour," Ellen said, pointing at the clock.

"Sounds good," I replied.

* * *

The night passed. I had worked the entire time, not bothering to use the break that was offered to me. Ellen closed up the bar and cleared out the last of the crowd. I took off my apron and put it on the hook by the counter. Ellen approached me.

"Well, I'm impressed. You've got the job," she said.

I was ecstatic. I could make myself a new life here, get a clean slate. We worked out the details and I bid goodnight to Ellen and Jo, expressing my gratitude once again. I opened the door -

And almost got smashed by a human monster truck.

"Sorry!" I said, backing up. _Why am I apologizing? It's his fault._

"No, it's my fault," the guy said. I looked up. It was Dean! Sam was right behind him, of course.

_I can't believe this! What are they doing here?!_

"Oh, don't mind them, Darcy! Just a pair of massive apes," Ellen called behind me.

_I really need to go._

"Right, well, I'm off then," I said, then slid behind them and squeezed through the door.

* * *

**Sam POV**

"Right, well, I'm off then," the tiny girl said, then ran off behind us.

"Awh, Sammy, you scared her off," Dean teased.

I rolled my eyes.

"You're the one that mowed her over," I pointed out. She did look familiar though...

Dean and I sat down at the bar.

"Hey, boys," Ellen said, then Jo came out from the back.

"Hey, Sam. Dean," she said, grinning.

"Who's the new girl?" Dean asked.

"Her name's Darcy. Poor girl has been through hell, I just know. She came in and earned herself a job," Ellen answered.

Darcy. Didn't ring a bell. I looked at Dean, he was thinking the same. But the nagging feeling didn't go away; we knew that girl.

* * *

**Annabella POV**

I was curled up in the middle of the motel bed. It was the closest one to the Roadhouse, so it would have to do until I found an apartment. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I cried every night, mourning my family, my friend, and now, my old life.

I sat up straight. A car was pulling in. _This late? _Usually I would think it was just a late night wanderer, but after everything...

I cautiously peeked through the curtain. It was Sam and Dean! They had the room next to mine!

I fought the urge to scream. Why?! After everything, can't I get a clean slate?! If they were here, that meant monsters, or worse, were here.

But I didn't want to leave. I liked Ellen, I liked Jo. Ash was a little strange, but I could get used to him, and the Roadhouse was very cozy. Was it a little weird that Ellen seemed to know them? Sure, but whatever.

I decided to stay. It was probably a stupid decision, but I didn't care. I would just have to deal.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Look alive, it's chapter five! Commentary is very motivational, so be sure to leave a review! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural.**

**Chapter Five**

I woke up mid-afternoon and got myself ready for work. The Impala was not in the parking lot, so I got out and drove to the Roadhouse, coming in the side door that Jo had showed me.

"Afternoon," I greeted Ellen.

"You're early," she noted. I shrugged.

"Hey, Darcy," Jo said cheerily. She had a twinkle in her eye - she was up to something.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing," she said, cruising to the back.

Ellen groaned. "Well, let's get ready, then," she said.

* * *

A couple hours into my shift, Sam and Dean strolled in through the door and proceeded to sit at a booth right at the end of my jurisdiction.

_Why are Fred and George here?! Agh. Relax. They can't recognize me. They can't recognize me..._

Putting aside the HP references, I made my way over to their booth.

"What can I get you guys?" I asked politely.

"Two beers," Dean said.

Sam stared at me, barely blinking.

"Whatever's on tap, or -"

"Sounds great," Dean said, cutting me off. There was something that changed in his expression.

"Got it," I answered, then got back to the bar. Jo looked at me, then Sam and Dean, noticing my discomfort.

"Are they harassing you?" She demanded to know.

"Who? Them? No," I said quickly. I didn't want any trouble, just for them to leave. I chanced a glance over ... Sam was still examining me, and then he stopped to chat with his brother. I felt myself flush from nervousness. _I'm fine. I'm fine._

I went back over and gave them their drinks.

"Can I get you anything else?" I asked.

"No, thanks," Sam said.

I went into the back room, and took a couple steadying breaths. _That wasn't so bad, see? Get a grip. _I went back in to continue my shift.

* * *

I exited the Roadhouse and took a deep breath. Once. Twice. Thrice. I had finished the rest of my shift and I was fine. The Roadhouse was fine. Sam and Dean stopped by for what we have: drinks. Which was fine.

I walked over to my car and was fishing for my keys when a sturdy hand turned me around. _Speak of the devils..._

"Annabella, what are you doing here?" Sam asked me softly.

"What does it look like I'm doing here?! I'm working, getting a clean slate. At least I was, until you guys showed up," I grumbled.

"Why? You were getting your degree?" Dean asked, but he sounded almost ... angry. Like he was scolding me for not staying put.

"Don't get high and mighty on my watch!" I fumed. "Don't you get it?! I couldn't stay where I was anymore! I had lost what was left of my family!" I sniffed. "I used to have a baby sister and a father … but they died when I was eleven, and now this! I don't even know of any existing extended family because my parents ran away together when I they found out they were having a baby! Me! And how am I supposed to go back to school when whenever I'm on campus I see Nadia!? My one actual best friend! I couldn't! I just couldn't!"

I wiped away my tears harshly. Why did I just tell them everything? _You can't bottle it up forever. _They moved forward.

"No! Don't touch me! Stay away! You guys are supposed to help, but you brought monsters into my life, even after everything!" I sniffed again and backed up, my back suddenly on my car.

"Is there something wrong with the Roadhouse?" I asked.

"No," Sam answered. Something tells me that he would've laughed at the question at any other time.

"Then I'm staying," I told them. I got into my car and drove away.

* * *

I parked at the back if the motel so the stupid Winchesters couldn't see my car, then hurriedly got into my room.

I collapsed onto the mattress. I was upset at myself for exploding, but maybe that would keep them away. Hah. Positive thinking. I stopped myself from pulling my hair. _Bad habits die hard._

They weren't hunting. That's all that really mattered. I changed into a pair of pajamas I snagged from a thrift store, brushed my teeth, then got into bed.

* * *

I arrived early at work again, but the devils were there talking with Jo and Ellen; no Ash. Whatever.

When I walked in, I realized 'talking' was a gentle word for what was going on; Ellen was exploding, Jo retaliating just as much. The boys were hunkered down, trying to be as not-awkward as possible.

_Great. They're not hunting, but they're still causing trouble._

"Hey, Annabella," Sam said as I entered the room.

Jo and Ellen both stopped and turned their heads.

"Who?!" Ellen demanded.

_Oh, shit._

I glared at the boys. This was their fault, can't they use an alias when it's necessary?!

"Ah. Right. Sorry, Ellen and Jo. My name is Annabella Darcy Roberts. After an … accident … happened a while back, I left everything and moved here. I started using my middle name, changed my appearance … but these two knuckleheads still recognized me," I explained, fuming.

"How do you know them?" Jo demanded to know.

"Well, they kind of saved my school from a -" I paused. "Guys, they know about ... stuff ... right?" They laughed.

"Yeah, they know," Sam answered.

"Stop laughing," I said, unamused.

They coughed.

"Sorry," they mumbled.

"Anyway, so they come storming into my old college as FBI and killed a shapeshifter. I was involved, and later they unsuccessfully rescued my family from another creature," I paused. "What was it, anyway?" I asked.

Dean opened his mouth but then I shook my head.

"You know what? I don't wanna know," I mumbled.

"Winchesters," Ellen muttered, going into the back.

"I'm sorry," Jo said.

"Yeah, everyone is," I answered bitterly. There was a pounding in my ears. I hated this. Why did I have to explain myself to everybody? I barely knew a thing about the boys, and the Harvelle's were nice, but I didn't know them well, either. I was more than frustrated, but I kept my mouth shut.

"Well ... you can help us stop others from dying," Jo said.

I turned to stare into her eyes.

"What?"

"Well ... I'm trying to get into the life of a hunter. Come with me! I've got this case Philadelphia I found myself," she said proudly.

"Become a hunter," I answered back. "That's crazy. I can't do what those guys do. Not day to day, I'd go crazy!"

"We're all crazy here, anyway!" Jo shot back.

Dean cleared his throat loudly from the bar.

"You're not going on that hunt," he said firmly.

"And I don't think dragging Annabella into the life is the best idea ever," Sam finished.

"Hey, just Anna or Bella will do just fine," I told the guys.

"I think Bella's already been dragged in far enough!" Jo defended.

"That's not for you to decide," Dean shot back.

My mind was whirling. One moment I was going to work, now my decision centered on whether I was becoming a hunter or not. _Your life is already screwed up beyond repair. And Jo is right, the guys do save people. They were too late for the people I care about, but now those monsters can't get anyone else ... but how do they live? Constant life on the road? Certain death around every corner? Sounds like a daring book I would read ..._

I slowly came out of my reverie, realizing that they barely noticed my absence and they were going to go around full circle if someone didn't stop them.

"Bella's lost everything! We've lost everything! Why put her and ourselves at risk again?"

"We all know the risk! That's why we take it! I've researched for hours and this case is mine!"

"You're not going! Do we need to bring out your mother again?"

"GUYS!" I screeched.

They all halted.

I looked at the faces of Jo, Dean, and Sam. Jo was determined and on full defense; Dean was angered and irritated; Sam's expression changed to pity as soon as he looked at me.

I took a breath.

"I should go. I mean, I've had too many run-ins with monsters and it's about time that I caught up with them." I didn't mention that I actually hated the idea, or that I was terrified, or that I was still frustrated as all hell with the Winchesters (but more so that I had told them everything.) But maybe I could learn a couple of things about monsters, specifically how to avoid them, and then leave the Winchesters for good.

"And Jo, if your mom says no, that means no," I finished.

Jo huffed and went into the back. Sam and Dean looked at me, surprise and disbelief covering their faces.

Dean was about to start saying something, I could tell, but I cut him off.

"I'm coming," I said firmly.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Better get your fish and chips, here's Chapter Six! (I like rhyming, don't judge.) Please review and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural.**

**Chapter Six**

I worked my shift as usual that night; Sam said that they'd pop around after the Roadhouse closed and we would work out as many details as we could about the hunt. After minimal persuasion on my part, they let me tag along.

Ellen wasn't ecstatic with me for a couple of reasons: 1) I had lied completely about my identity; after I explained a little more fully, she came around and gave me a hug. I saw … empathy, not sympathy, in her eyes. 2) I had agreed and insisted to go on the hunt with the Winchesters.

"Those boys are big trouble, and I don't want you getting yourself needlessly hurt," Ellen told me like she was my mother.

"I appreciate the gesture, Ellen. But I'm not going back on my decision, and if something does happen, I'll return and quietly work at your bar," I promised.

Jo was smiling at me too happily. She was jealous, I knew; I took her opportunity. But there was no way I was going against her mother.

* * *

The evening flew by, and before I knew it, the boys had come in.

"Hey, Bella!" They greeted.

"Hey guys," I said, and I felt a smile wanting to form on my face, but it didn't quite get there.

"Here's what we've got so far," Dean said, bringing out a stack of papers clipped together nicely.

"There's a been series of disappearances over the past couple decades in an apartment building in Philadelphia. The victims have all been young blond women. We have a couple of ideas about the culprit, but we won't know much until we head over," Sam told me.

"Sounds good. So how are we heading over?" I asked.

"We're taking my baby," Dean said, almost insulted.

"So we'll cruise to Philly after a week?" I grumbled.

"No, two days. The weather is fine now, and Sam and I will take turns driving," Dean said.

"Okay. I do need some stuff," I said.

"We do too, we'll pay," Sam told me. He wasn't asking for my permission, and a glance proved the fleeting thought that both of them felt really crappy about what happened and were trying to make it up. I nodded.

"Okay."

"We know you're staying next to us at the motel, so we'll drive over using our car; you can leave your Ford here, and we'll take off in the morning," Dean continued.

"Wait, what? Why-"

"I don't feel like wasting time and gas, do you?" Dean asked, his voice reeking with attitude. I didn't like it, but it was obviously a reflex, not a thought given to it; I wasn't about to argue. _Thank you, psychology classes._

"Fine," I muttered.

"All right. So, here's the next big issue: do you know how to fight? Or shoot a gun?" Dean asked.

"I can learn," I countered.

Suddenly both of them turned into doctors, looking at me with examining and protruding eyes.

"Actually, when's the last time you ate?" Sam asked.

I crossed my arms self consciously. I had eaten sometime yesterday, I was sure. Food wasn't high on my list of priorities, hadn't been for weeks. I was small, anyway.

"Annabella. When's the last time you ate?" Dean asked the question again, demanding an answer.

"Look, I'm fine, okay? Aren't there fighting techniques for tiny people like me I can learn?" I changed the subject – or rather, tried to change the subject.

"Yes, but only if you don't faint from malnutrition during training," Sam shot back.

"Okay! I get it!" I said, exasperated.

"Yeah, we can teach you," Dean continued, dropping it.

"This does seem to be a smaller case, that's why we're mostly okay with letting you come, but that doesn't make it any less dangerous," he finished with a warning.

"Nothing new," I muttered. "Is that everything?" I asked.

"For now," Sam said.

* * *

As planned, we left in the morning and put the Roadhouse in the horizon line. Dean apparently had an ancient and massive tape collection of classic rock – Metallica, Journey, Kansas … everything. Not that I minded too much. Sam was on his laptop; don't ask me how he was researching without any nearby Wi-Fi. I sat back, napping and playing random games on my iPod.

After a while, Dean pulled to the shoulder on one of the bundles of country roads that had a wooden fence not far from the way. We all got out, Sam stretching and Dean getting to the trunk. I followed Dean round and he took out a bag – it was full of empty beer cans. He then took a couple different sized guns - I knew that one was a pistol and the other was a shotgun … yeah, I was lost when it came to guns.

"So, we're going to begin with teaching you how to shoot a gun," Dean said. We walked over to the fence and he set a couple of them up, then we walked back to where Sam was.

"Know anything about them?" He asked.

"Uh…point and shoot?" I answered, unsure.

"It's a little more than that," he said. He took out one of the handguns.

"You're a novice, so I'm going to give you the revolver. Press on the release button here to put the bullets in the cylinder, then click it back into place. Hold your arms out straight, aim, then shoot." Dean shot the revolver, perfectly knocking over one of the cans. "Got it?"

"Sounds easy, but watch me knock down the fence," I muttered back.

"Confidence is key," Sam pep talked.

"Right," I whispered to myself.

I looked over the gun, putting automatic labels on the gun from what Dean had told me. I held it out, feeling powerful, aimed …

And nicked one of the cans! It wasn't the one I was aiming for, but I'll take it!

"Not too shabby," Sam said, grinning. I wanted to smile back, but a look of content was as close as I could get.

"Keep going down the line," Dean instructed.

I managed to at least tap a whooping 2 out of the 13 cans.

"You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" Sam asked.

"Does it look like I have an idea of what I'm doing?" I answered back.

We watched Dean line 10 more cans back up.

"The key is breathing," Sam advised.

"Which means...?"

"Inhale, aim, exhale, shoot."

"Sounds like meditation."

"You know, it kind of is," he answered jokingly.

Dean walked back up.

"Make sure to keep your feet shoulder-width apart, steady, square your shoulders where you're aiming. It'll help keep the weapon straight." he said, continuing a speech from earlier.

"Okay."

I, less clumsily than the first time, refilled the gun.

"Am I wasting ammo here, or..?"

"Nah, we're going on a run anyway," Sam waved away.

"All right."

Taking Sam's advice, I inhaled. I let it all out in a huff. _Focus._ I took another breath, slowly. I aimed for one of the center cans … exhaled … and took the shot.

"I got it!" I cheered.

"Nice job, kiddo," Dean said, slapping my shoulder.

"Told you it was in the breathing," Sam added.

I managed to hit 4 out of the 10 cans.

"I'll take it," Dean said, nodding.

He started repacking all of the stuff.

"Oh, before we forget," Sam said.

"Safety on. Safety off," he showed.

"Sounds good," I said.

"Keep that on you at all times, we'll get you ammo later," Dean insisted.

Sam started driving after that, while Dean and I took naps.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: We're in heaven, here's chapter seven! This chapter was a little delayed, sorry about that. Please comment if you like!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural.**

**Chapter Seven**

"Morning, princess," Dean woke me up.

I groaned, sounding more like Shamu in a bad mood than Princess Aurora awaking. Whatever. I lifted my head, wiping out my eye gunk. Sam looked in the rear view mirror and laughed.

"You might wanna brush your hair before we get out," he advised.

I grabbed a compact and a brush out of my purse. Wow, Sam was right. Even in a car, my hair managed to look like Cruella de Vil. I brushed it back into a ponytail and rubbed minimal concealer under my eyes to make it look like I slept well, finishing by chewing a piece of mint gum to refresh my mouth. Ta-da.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Northern Illinois," Dean answered.

I looked out the window.

"Specifically …"

"Rockford."

I looked at my iPod. It was 8:23. We had driven for a day, and everything was sore.

We pulled into the nearest motel, and I felt the boys' discomfort on whether to get one or two rooms. I waved it away; in no way did they feel like a threat to me, we were adults, and they didn't need to pay more than they already did. Besides, and I wasn't going to tell the boys, but I had felt really lonely the past couple … months? They had no qualms against that, so one room it was. I collapsed on the couch. I was the smallest, so I already decided I would take it; the boys could take the beds.

"I'm going out for a dinner run," Sam said, then headed out. I barely registered the words.

I heard Dean go in for a shower, and that was the last thing I remembered before Sam came back in again with food.

"Bella! You need to eat!" I heard Dean say through a mouthful of burger. I mumbled something generic back; sleep was more important at the moment.

"We have peach pie!" He continued.

Suddenly I was sitting up in one of the dining chairs.

"Pie…" I mumbled.

"Burger first," Sam said, handing me a drive-thru bag.

I opened it and dug in, realizing that I actually was hungry.

"Thanks," I said after swallowing the last bite.

"No problem," Sam replied.

Dean and I devoured the pie, no crumb left behind. Sam looked between the two of us, dumbfounded, before digging back through his stuff.

"I'm going to take a shower," I announced.

I grabbed an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants along with my toiletry bag to the bathroom. I took out the contacts first, happy my brown eyes weren't too irritated. I took a really hot shower, savoring the feeling. It was relaxing, in contrast to the brothers I was with and what we were heading into. Well, I take the first half back. Sam and Dean were good people, and it was really easy to get along with them. I laughed at the sudden memory of the Lord of the Rings argument we had gotten into earlier in the car. Laughed. I laughed. Sam and Dean had made me happy. Suddenly, I was giggling like a mad woman; I was happy the shower masked my insanity, because I don't think I would've been able to explain the sudden wave of hilarity that overtook me. I was definitely recovering from PTSD.

After getting out of the shower, I savagely took a brush to my hair – my curls were impossible. I quickly brushed my teeth and got dressed; happy that I wasn't on my ladies' days, I emerged from the shower and shoved the rest of my stuff back in my bag.

"My turn," Sam muttered to himself, grabbing his stuff and heading in.

Dean threw me an extra pillow and blanket; I covered the couch in the blanket and put the pillow on top, then took out my super fuzzy throw from my other bag; it was the one I had kept in my car for emergencies - my mom's advice. I felt my eyes start to itch from unshed tears; maybe I should've gotten a separate room.

"How're you holding up?" Dean asked.

"Well, on a scale from Luke after finding out his father is Darth Vader to Rose after losing Jack, I'd say -"

"Okay, I get it," he mumbled.

I sighed. I was being melodramatic.

"You know, Sammy and I lost our parents, too," Dean said very quietly; I could barely hear him.

That took me for a spin.

"Oh … wow … um, well, I'm sorry," I sputtered.

"Our mom died when I was barely a kid, our dad was uh…not long ago," Dean finished, looking down.

"Demons," he growled.

"My dad's death was a little less supernatural," I said softly.

"It was a beautiful day, and my brother and I had finished up our day at school… my dad had volunteered to pick us up. Elysia wanted to come along so badly…and then a drunk driver came out of nowhere."

I was fidgeting big time, looking anywhere except at Dean. He was the first person I had told since Nadia had asked me years ago. I hated that driver, and I had wanted to strangle her with my own small, pre-adolescent hands myself. But she had died in the accident, too.

I felt my eyes wander to Dean's green ones. He looked devastated but understood. We knew what it was like. It wasn't our fault. It's like one moment you have a heart and the next thing you know it's ripped out but you have to function without it now.

Sam came out of the bathroom, the warm, steamy air wafting through the room. Actually, both of the boys smelled heavenly. It wasn't anything they used just … them. Masculine and strong, yet sweet and homey. I didn't know how else to describe it.

"I'm going to sleep," I told both of them.

"Sounds good."

"G'night."

I turned around so I was facing the couch and felt tears stream down my cheeks.

* * *

My sleep was fitful; nothing would stick. So at one point, I just got up and started stretching. I looked at the boys. They looked so peaceful in their sleep, like children. I kind of hated them before, but they were no different than I was, really.

I rinsed out a cup before drinking some water out of it. I sat back down, then grabbed my iPod. I listened to the tunes before going to the photo gallery for the real reason it was precious to me. I held the device close, looking at the picture of young me and the rest of my smiling family. It was the one picture I had left of all of us before anything had happened. The photo albums had burned in the fire, and the photos in my wallet were separated – my dad with Hayden, just my parents, just me with my siblings. This was the one with all of us. _I miss you guys._

* * *

Not for the first time, I felt my hearing wake up before the rest of me did. My earbuds had fallen out, and Sam and Dean were talking.

"... haven't had any more visions recently, so I don't know what else to go on."

I heard Sam groan in frustration.

"I just can't figure out the pattern!"

"We'll get it, okay?"

There was a pause.

"You wanna wake her up?"

"I did it the last two times."

"I'd rather just carry her in the car, but we'd forget something," Sam (?) sighed.

I felt a gentle shaking.

"Bella! Time to go!"

"I'm so totally up right now," I slurred.

"Right. Don't forget anything and let's get to the Impala," Sam finished.

* * *

I put back in my colored contacts, more for my benefit than anything. I grabbed the rest of my stuff and headed out with the boys.

"Are we doing anything exciting today?" I asked.

"I'm appalled. You don't find the beautiful flatland of Illinois to be a delicacy fit to entertain?" Sam answered teasingly.

"Excuse me, Mr. Transcendentalist, but I would prefer just the slightest bit more action than the grass growing," I shot back.

"Transylvania what now?" Dean jumped in.

Sam laughed and I rolled my eyes.

"Just hang tight," Dean muttered.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: It'll be great, here's chapter eight! Please comment, I'd love to know what you think.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural.**

**Chapter Eight**

After a couple hours of … whatever it is Dean was listening to, we pulled over to a clearing near the side of the road; no other people could be seen. I was expecting more shooting practice, but the boys simply walked towards the center without the can bag.

"So, what's the lesson today, Mr. Miyagi's?" I asked.

"Have you ever been in a fight before, Bella-san?" Dean asked.

"Uh…"

I looked back to Dean, sizing him up again and remembering our first encounter. I felt like a chickadee next to King Kong or Godzilla. They couldn't possibly consider me trying to take down one of them for practice … could they?!

"You know what? This is a bad idea; maybe you guys should just drop me off somewhere…"

Dean crossed his arms and looked down at me – not too difficult for him.

"You wanted to come on this hunt and learn a few things, right?"

"Well, yeah, but in hindsight -"

"Now here you are," Dean finished.

"Hey, size doesn't really matter if you know how to use it," Sam added.

"Says the Green Giant!"

"We're not actually going to be fighting back, Bella. We're just showing you some simple, basic self-defense techniques that are very useful," Sam explained.

"Okay…"

"Where'd all your gumption go?" Dean joked. I rolled my eyes.

Sam stepped aside and Dean stood in front of me. I felt my hands shaking; if Dean was the enemy, how in the hell was I supposed to take him down?

"Let's get this straight: you are not a hunter. You are tagging along and will not be left alone at any time. However, should push come to shove, obviously you need to know how to get out of a sticky situation," Dean said.

"Sounds good so far," I breathed.

"Good. So, that means the biggest thing for you is to know is self-defense," Dean continued.

"I won't be turning into Buffy any time soon? Darn," I muttered.

Sam laughed.

"Let's begin," Dean said, stepping forward.

* * *

I swear, in about an hour I must've learned every type of fighting hold possible and how to escape it. However, I did have a recognizable natural talent for defending myself, so it went by a lot smoother than shooting practice did – which all three of us resumed after Sam pronounced me fit for what I needed to know.

"Not too shabby," Dean mused as we headed back to the car.

"Not too shabby? C'mon, I thought it would've been harder to slap your face," I quipped, laughing.

"Beginner's luck," he muttered.

"Just remember to do that when it's real, okay?" Sam stepped in.

"Sounds good," I answered. "What's next?"

"Doing some shopping," Sam said.

"Goody," I replied.

* * *

We pulled into the town next door and Dean went to go get gun related stuff (honestly, it all sounded Greek to me) so I stuck with Sam to go grab the mundane.

"Costco?" I asked in disbelief.

"What's wrong with Costco?"

"Nothing," I responded coolly – I completely thought that they both shopped in pharmacies and gas stations all the time.

We got in and I looked around in awe; it's been awhile since I'd been in a Costco.

"Grab anything and everything you need; I'll meet you in the front in 10 minutes," Sam said, looking at his watch. Hmm. I'd be needing one of those. Comfier clothes I can move around in. Mother Nature would be calling next week. And a new cell phone …

After collecting my stuff, I easily found Sam back at the front where he paid for everything and we walked out.

"You didn't need to do that," I mumbled to him on the way back to the car.

"Do what?"

"Pay for my stuff. You guys are already dealing with me for the hunt, but I don't want to become a hassle, or like a pet you need to take care of," I said, much more straightforward. I had a point to make, and I was going to make it.

"Bella, you're not," Sam cut me off.

"I don't think you understand -"

"Bella. Listen to me," Sam stopped me at the front of the Impala.

"Dean and I … we were talking … and we're not proud of what we did, or how we handled your situation. I mean, we practically ran out of the hospital when what was left of your family died, and we were the only ones that knew what really happened," Sam got out.

"That doesn't mean I want your pity. I want to be prepared," I shot back, putting up my defenses.

"And that's fine. But let us make it up to you as much as possible," he concluded.

That took me for a spin. I realized then that the boys cared and were trying to help me; they weren't molding a hunter, they were making sure I had the knowledge to get out of a sticky situation in the future, which I'm sure is more than what they've given others.

"Sam … thank you," I replied, touched.

"No problem," he said, then smiled. "Let's get back to the motel before Dean freaks out, okay?"

"Okay," I said, giving him a genuine smile in return; it felt good to smile again.

* * *

The boys and I got into Philly that afternoon, so we went straight to the apartment building in question. Dean handed me my now fully loaded revolver, and Sam went to the trunk to grab their own set of handguns, knives, and –

"What are those? It looks like Ghostbusters' props," I teased.

"Close. They're EMF detectors," Sam answered.

"EMF. Electromagnetic frequencies?"

"Yahtzee," Dean said, coming around. "If a spirit is the cause of the accidents, we can use the EMF to detect it."

"So some of the Ghost Whisperer-type theories are true," I contemplated.

"Gotta get their ideas from somewhere," Dean grunted. "Let's get in there."

* * *

Sam easily pick-locked the door and we headed in, where the boys promptly took out the EMF detectors. Sam mentioned something about feeling bad for taking Jo's case; I did too, but there was no way I was going against her mother.

I looked around the room while the boys used their devices. There seemed to be nothing incriminating at all.

"What are we looking for, anyway?" I asked, but then Sam's EMF started beeping crazily.

Dean and I headed over to the uncovered light switch in the wall that had caused the EMF to freak out – black goo had oozed out.

"Ew. What is that?"

"It's ectoplasm," Dean replied.

"Meaning?" I prodded.

"The State Puff Marshmallow Man," he said, dead serious. Sam and I gave him our _haha, very funny _looks.

"I've only ever seen this stuff once or twice," Sam said, dabbing it on his index finger and examining it. "I mean, to make this stuff you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit."

"A spirit. Is that the same thing as a ghost?"

"Basically, it's like the distinction between soup and chowder," Dean explained. "Spirits are a little more concrete than ghosts."

"I see," I responded, backing up a little - the ectoplasm smelled weird.

"Alright. Let's snag this badass before he snags any more girls," Dean said.


End file.
